


First Point of Aries

by xaves



Category: Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst and Feels, F/M, Inarticulate Yearning, Kylo Ren waxing too much poetic, Pining, Post TLJ, Slow Burn, long-distance yelling matches, politics in space, the Force does what the Force wants
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-02-16
Packaged: 2019-03-17 00:32:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13647663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xaves/pseuds/xaves
Summary: Her eyes were impossibly large this close, bright hazel and dilated. He saw star clusters there. He saw her youth. And his own face, wretched and twisted, reflected in the black.She could be yours,the darkness promised.She doesn’t want to be,Kylo Ren replied.-The only way forward for Rey is to learn from Ben Solo. The only way back for Kylo Ren is to become him.





	1. celestial latitudes

**Author's Note:**

> **The First Point of Aries** \- the location of the vernal equinox, the celestial "prime meridian"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The vision returned to him, clear and true. A crooked smile and freckles that lined her face like constellations, the two of them standing amidst a galaxy of possibilities. All theirs for the taking. Kylo Ren faced his shadows and smirked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've never been so happy to fall into a trash compactor of angst and space like reylo, my dudes. Writing this fic is my first foray into SW fandom in terms of writing for it, it's a thrill to research the hell out of everything so I hope y'all enjoy.

There was blood on his hands. Under his fingernails, layers of it between each crease and crevice of his skin, years of souls he’d taken imprinted on his flesh. It dripped from his hair, wet and sticky like tar. It was in his teeth, simmering on his tongue. And the smell of it ran even thicker, weighing down his very bones with the metallic tang - a veritable fog, suffocating him.

The journey from Crait had been a violent one.

Kylo Ren breathed deep, alone in his quarters, hunched over with his arms propped on his knees in an awkward semblance of a meditative pose. The return from the salt planet had been hours ago but once he had disembarked and stormed away to his room, the silence he found in himself had become paralyzing. Snoke had carved out a presence in Kylo’s mind, influencing him from childhood like a parasite. With him gone, what remained was only self-hatred and anger.

There should have been triumph. It had been a victory, to destroy the being who had used him. But Rey had taken that with her on the blasted Falcon. She had taken everything, leaving him untethered.

Then Luke Skywalker died and his emptiness widened.

A spirit split to the bone.

The familiar taste of failure was bitter on his tongue, mingling with the acrid stench of a slaughter smeared onto his clothes. His very bones ached, a sweet agony he knew better than himself; the cost of physical energy, rather than the late Supreme Leader’s cruel hand. A feeling left over from his Jedi padawan days.

He drowned in it all - the defeat, the past, the emptiness - allowing it to wash over him like rhydonium, ready to ignite at a single spark. It left him open and vulnerable.

As if sensing his weakness, the darkness slunk out from where it had been waiting patiently in his shadow. Hungrily, it sank its teeth into his soft flesh as punishment for his ever-growing list of disappointments.

_Jedi-killer_ , it hissed, coaxing his limbs to shiver while the temperature of the room sank without warning. _Murderer of father and master, all alone with your power and your sins._

“No,” Kylo murmured, swaying in his seat. Without thinking, he reached out, grasping at air but knowing, _feeling_ that strand, not of Snoke’s creation but his own. Forged with her. He wanted to be sure, and he felt her still, a distant thought, weak and flickering but _there_. Control slipping at the relief he couldn't help but feel, his lips twitched with a satisfied smile. “No, not alone.”

At least this one small victory remained. At least he could keep her, pull her back-

_Oh, but she left you_ , the darkness crooned, gentler now, whisper-sweet against his ear. _Left you for her friends. She rejected you, the worthless scavenger, like your family did._

The deceptive velvet black pushed into him, filling him like an intoxicating weed, roots spreading into his veins. Doubt burrowed under his tongue, fear mixing into the sweat beading on his brow. He began breathing harder, poison wrapping tighter around him until every inhale was a struggling effort. He pulled both arms into his chest, curling into himself, and remembered how she had nearly taken his hand, her young face lit with hope for him.

“I had her. She was almost _mine_.”

She could have had everything, he thought, the memories of her too precious to speak openly and give to the black. But still. We could have done it together.

It ignited his jealousy, remembering her betrayal, rankling his possessive passions, and the darkness moaned obscenely at his lack of restraint, reveling in it.

_So go and claim her, Supreme Leader. Sith Lord, Darth-_

“No.” Kylo Ren snapped, eyes filling with a dim yellow light like a dying pulse. Standing, he looked around, attempting to shake off the shadows. The room was empty but he felt it, the crawling energy pulsating from every corner. Watching. “That title died with my grandfather. The Sith will end, just as the Jedi must. _Wonoksh Qyâsik nun_.”

_TRAITOR_.

A rush of power erupted around him like a wave, knocking him down to his hands and knees with a grimace while a furious cacophony wailed into ear, clawing at him, seeking his heart.

_YOU DARE SPEAK THE WORDS WITH YOUR APOSTATE TONGUE._

The thick miasma he was trapped in grew barbs and they cut deep, digging, ripping. Hot white agony trickled under his skin like burning needles. Hands scrabbling for purchase, Kylo felt himself sinking lower and lower to the ground until his forehead nearly touched the floor, the weight of Sith power crushing him.

_YOU SEEK TO DESTROY WHAT MADE YOU WHAT YOU ARE. FAILED JEDI. FAILED HEIR OF VADER._

“I seek to end this cycle. There will be balance when there is nothing left,” Kylo snarled through clenched teeth, feeling his own rage rising, amplified by the dark presence. His fingers itched for his saber, but he dug them into his palm instead, fingernails digging into old scars as he weathered the punishment. “Let it _die_. All of it.”

_YOU WILL FAIL_ , the voices shrieked, battering him again with increasingly uncontrollable waves of energy and fluxes of wild emotions. Fangs with blade-like edges pried his rib cage open, tore at his throat, scrabbling to reach his eyes, to blind, to hurt, to kill.

_YOU WILL FAIL AS LONG AS THERE IS LIGHT IN YOU, CHILD OF SKYWALKER._

Unseen talons punctured his lungs and Kylo coughed, flecks of blood painting the floor. He realized it meant to tear him apart, this force; rip him limb from limb for his insubordination. An instinctual attempt to summon his own darkness, to pull his pain into a weapon, failed him as soon as he reached for it and found nothing. His eyes widened in horror, yellow returning to plain, simple brown. Empty and defenseless.

Mocking laughter echoed in his ears, sounding like memories, but warped and hollow. _YOU CANNOT USE WHAT IS NOT RIGHTFULLY YOURS._

“Then I will take what I have left.” Kylo extended a hand out again weakly, curling his fingers on the fragile thread, and _pulled_ , dragging something flickering to the surface. Almost instantly, the faint spark sent his attacker reeling back with a head-splitting scream and the disabling effect lifted like a passing fog. A cheat; something Ben Solo would have done, weak as he was.

Kylo Ren hardly felt the additional drop of self-loathing to his already overfilled well.

Subdued for now, the Dark circled him, slinking at the border of the frail wall of light that Kylo had constructed. Thousands of eyes looked on in hatred. _You cannot remain between two realms. You will be stretched and twisted until you break. Until you fail. And you_ will _fail._

Sitting up shakily, Kylo wiped at his mouth, staring down at the smear of crimson left on his fingers. As he licked his lips, he was startled to find the taste of salt water intermingled with his blood. He could smell the sea drifting through the haze of blood. The thread of light tangled around his fingers pulsed with wild energy as he began to laugh, deep and harsh.

Darkness hesitated, suddenly fearful.

“Maybe.”

The vision returned to him, clear and true. A crooked smile and freckles that lined her face like constellations, the two of them standing amidst a galaxy of possibilities. All theirs for the taking. Kylo Ren faced his shadows and smirked.

“But she won’t.”

~~\---------------~~

The two halves of the lightsaber rested heavy in Rey’s hands as she placed them in a drawer alongside the ancient Jedi texts. She knew there should probably be some ceremony to this, something solemn to say, but nothing came to mind. The significance of the memories the weapon carried, from Anakin Skywalker down to her, now reduced to scrap metal, basic wiring, and a translucent rock. Failed, broken, with no use to anybody.

Looking down at her shaking, bruised hands, Rey could relate.

“Think there’s any chance of fixing it?”

Rey jerked from her thoughts, spinning around to see General Organa standing in the doorway of the one unoccupied section of the Falcon. _She looks tired_ , Rey thought sadly. Tired, but undefeated.

Radiant.

“I-I’m not sure.” Rey glanced back down at the ruined weapon, admitting quietly, “I don’t know how.”

Leia gave a small snort of amusement in response, moving into the room slowly to sit down at one of the benches by the storage compartments. “That never stopped Luke. Never stopped any of us, for that matter, including you.” At Leia’s meaningful look, Rey smiled shyly and joined her on the seat. “The important thing now is to move forward.” Leia returned the smile, the gesture warm and genuine. An unbidden tendril of thrill travelled up Rey’s spine, as it always did with Finn, at being wanted, cared for, loved. The sense of belonging was so new, it left Rey unbalanced and breathless at the warmth of it curling in the pit of her stomach. This feeling of family. _Of home_.

“And we’ll learn on the way.”

“What _is_ the next step?” Rey looked out the small viewport window nearby. Outside, the stars were blurred by hyperspace as the Millennium Falcon hurdled along the Corellian Trade Spine. “Where do we go from here?”

The entire vastness of space, once something Rey imagined as endless, had been condensed, made small with nowhere to hide. Their already few numbers, crammed into a freighter, could still slip through the First Order’s widening grasp, but for how long? With the depleted Resistance and Hosnian System destroyed, what was stopping Kylo Ren, his Knights, and his entire First Order army from mowing down entire planets to get to them?

As if sensing Rey’s tumultuous thoughts, Leia placed a hand on her knee for comfort. “We regroup. Rebuild. And for that, we’re going to need Lando.”

“Is that a system or…?”

Leia began to laugh, making Rey’s confused frown deepen into a pout.

“I apologize, it’s not you, it’s just-” Leia gave a vague wave with her other hand, still chuckling, “-echoes of the past. No, Lando Calrissian is the Baron Administrator of Cloud City on Bespin. He’s a scoundrel, but reliable. And we need reliable right now. That, and ships.”

“I’m not sure what good I’ll be, then.” Her fingers curled into fists in her lap as she confessed this, pulling up a thread of doubt that had followed her since Crait. What good could a girl with only the smallest fragments of training and Jedi platitudes do for people who expected more? She wasn’t a jedi – she couldn’t just lift rocks until the enemy surrendered. She didn’t even have a lightsaber anymore. Only books and ghosts, with uncertainty spreading roots between her ribs, dark and cloying.

For a gut-wrenching moment, she imagined Leia telling her to go, shoulders lifting in a careless shrug as she explained that they had no use for a desert girl who had failed what little Jedi lessons she had received. She would be abandoned on the nearest planet, left to fend for herself. Rey’s tongue felt thick in her mouth, dread-heavy, as she quickly added, “I could fly, if we get more ships. I don’t know how to fly them all, but I’m a fast learner. Or help with repairs, or-or something! I could be a mechanic, I don’t mind-”

She was just a scavenger again.

“Rey-”

Maybe she was nothing.

Leia was looking at her, her expression a strange mix of sadness and exasperation. The hand on Rey’s knee tightened.

“I just want to help.” Rey hated how small she sounded. “In whatever way I can.”

“I know,” Leia said patiently, and Rey could see the dark shadows under the woman’s eyes at this distance. She’d never really looked before, so dazzled by the title and softened with respect, but she could see it now: the weight of her years and her losses in each gray hair and wrinkle of her skin. Han Solo’s death, her son’s betrayal, and now her brother’s passing on top of the deaths of so many Resistance fighters loyal to her, dying for her. The cost of loyalty, always paid with blood. There was a deep weariness in her, and though the fire she retained through her youth had always kept her standing tall and proud, the Leia Organa sitting before Rey looked fragile. Mortal.

Rage suddenly squeezed Rey’s chest taut at the thought that he had given this up, had given _her_ up, for darkness and power. _Look what you’ve done to her¸_ she mentally screamed, knowing he could not hear. _The mother who loves you, who still sees goodness in you. She’s lived through so much loss, and yet you keep taking when all you had to do was come back to your family._

_All you had to do was trust me._

_“Please.”_

The memory snapped Rey back, the anger melting into numbing disappointment. She remembered Ben’s body lying amongst the rubble and flames, curled up and vulnerable, and felt a lump of shame rise in her throat.

There was no use in dwelling on what had happened, seeking out alternate endings when they had already made their choices, but the guilt sat deep within her, threatening to burst from the flimsy box she had stuffed it all away in. Between Ben’s rejection and his offer, it left Rey wanting to beat at the walls – of the room, of her mind, of whatever frayed mental connection between them there had been, it didn’t matter –  but if she kept giving in to these sort of emotions, that would make her no better than him.

Let the past die.

Leia was smiling again, and Rey, with a shuddering breath, allowed the light she exuded to seep into her, banishing doubt and fury bit by bit. For now.

“We all have our work cut out for us, of course,” Leia mused, “And I don’t want to limit you on where to help - I know you’re very capable, Rey. But I would encourage you to keep up your training with the Force.”

It wasn't surprising, but it left Rey feeling sheepish, not quite able to meet the General’s eye. “I wouldn’t know where to start. All I have are these books now.”

“And you have me. And your friends.” Leia corrected her gently, “We may not have Jedi wisdom up our sleeve, but you can always ask for help, Rey. You’re not alone.”

Rey swallowed hard. _Kriff_ , was everything going to remind her of Kylo Ren? She saw parts of him on the General’s features, the stern set of their jaw, the expressive eyes. There was kindness there, and maybe there had been kindness in Ben’s eyes as well. Maybe she had missed something when he had offered her his hand for a second time.

Her own face suddenly felt hot, pressure building behind her eyes as she fought away tears, gulping them back shakily. Perhaps it was the way Leia had begun stroking comforting circles on her back, or just her sheer exhaustion, but the news could no longer wait.

“Ben-” she said shakily, and saw Leia blink in surprise. “Back there, on the First Order ship. He killed Snoke, General.”

The words grew easier as she let them go, digging deep into herself to pull out the jumbled memories like wet sand and let them drip from her lips.

“I went after him; I thought I could bring him back. After he killed Snoke, we fought together and I thought he would come to the light. I thought… I’m sorry, but-”

“But he didn’t,” Leia finished, looking thoughtful but unshaken by the news. Seconds passed, the General lost in thought, Rey watching her. How odd it was, that so much had changed in the last few hours, and yet the world kept going. They all had to keep going.

Leia leaned forward, steepling her fingers. “So Snoke is dead. I’m assuming that will make my son Supreme Leader, or whatever pompous title they’re going by these days.”

“I just don’t understand why he stayed with _them_ when he could make this right. He could come back.” Rey tried to keep the bitterness from her voice, but it was hard when it felt like a personal failure. Both on her arrogance of thinking she - or even their force-constructed connection - would have been enough to make him turn. And on her inability to predict the end result. But how could she have known that in trying to bring Ben closer to the light, he would turn around and offer her the galaxy?

“He had a choice.”

“As we all do,” Leia said. “But we’re not always strong enough to make the right one.”

_I’m not sure if I am, either,_ Rey thought, twisting her hands even tighter around themselves, tying knots tangled with worry.

Leia tilted her head, fixing Rey with a hard look. “Do you believe my son is still worth saving? That there’s still light in him?”

Rey opened her mouth to respond, then shut it again, uncertainty making her pause. She wanted to answer honestly, but the severe openness of the General’s face was so vulnerable and raw. Leia was looking for hope, too, it seemed.

“I thought there was,” Rey murmured, seeing soft eyes reflecting firelight in the hut on Ahch-To, feeling the barest brush of fingertips as the connection between them sang, golden and strong. A fond smile tugged at the corners of her mouth at the memory of that warmth, then faltered.

_You’re still holding on. Let go!_

“Now I’m not so sure.”

She wished she could give the General more, some sort of guarantee that her son could be saved. But she knew Han Solo had done the same thing and that had gotten him killed. Rey sighed. “I want to believe there’s still hope. I want to give him that chance.”

“A single chance is a galaxy of hope. Perhaps that may be enough for him. And for you.”

Rey entertained the idea of telling the General about the bond, the strange force that had been strung between her and Ben, but the Falcon gave a sudden lurch at that moment, startling them both and rattling some of the stray knick-knacks in the room, and when the dust settled, it was gone - the shadow that had passed over them both expelled. _Not yet. Not yet._

“Like I said, we have everything we need.” Leia stood with a grunt of exertion, back bent. _But not broken._ Watching her, Rey’s chest grew tight again, this time with something louder and brighter than whatever darkness dwelled within her; a purpose. A need to protect the General, protect everyone and carry their weight alongside her own, despite her weakness and self-doubt. _But am I strong enough?_

More light flooded her veins and a voice strangely resembling Master Luke’s reached out to curl around her thoughts, soft but persistent. _Cast your doubts aside. It doesn’t matter now, what you don’t know, what you lack. It’s not just about you anymore. She matters now. They matter. Trust yourself, trust the Force, and you’ll find the strength you need._

“Personally, I’d start with fixing that laser sword.” The living Skywalker twin spoke, ignorant of her brother’s mysterious presence. “But first,” the general soberly put a hand to Rey’s shoulder. “Let’s go see if we can scrounge up some caf powder in this junk heap.”

Rey let herself laugh as she was led out the door, the happy sound bursting out of her like a knife pulled from a wound, releasing tension. She felt lighter. And for a moment, she allowed Leia’s spark to light the way.

~~\---------------~~

_"That’s_ Lando Calrissian?”

Rey watched as Leia, followed closely by R2-D2 and Commander D’Acy, made her way across the landing pad on Cloud City. The evening wind whipped her robes wildly as she approached the tall, dark-skinned man. A tense second passed where Leia lifted a reproaching finger, out of ear-shot but clearly saying something stern, then immediately got swept up into a hug. For a man nearing his seventies, he was deceptively limber. And the cape he wore added something regal to his stature.

“Not what I was expecting.”

Poe, standing beside her, laughed and nudged Rey with his shoulder. “Now, now, be respectful. He’s a General.”

BB-8, wobbling just behind Poe, gave a few furtive beeps. Rey snickered behind her hand, while the pilot rolled his eyes, “Play _nice_ , kids.”

Finn, plastered down with a coating of bacta patches from a particularly enthusiastic med droid, looked more impressed, “And the guy behind him? With the implants?”

“Lobot,” Poe supplied, “Cloud City’s computer-liaison officer. Lando does the pleasantries, Lobot does the rest.”

General Organa and Calrissian’s cohorts made their way back over to where the rest of the Resistance was waiting around the Falcon’s entry ramp. Lando’s face, wide with a toothy grin, fell as he saw their numbers. “Stars, I know you said you’ve lost some numbers, but General, this isn’t the First Order taking a bite out of you - they nearly ate you whole.”

“Why do you think we’re here?” Leia smiled ruefully.

The older man peered over the Falcon, looking more and more woeful, “At least you haven’t dinged up my ship more than usual. That a new quad laser gunport, Chewie? Surprised you could find any spare parts for those rusty AG-2Gs.”

Chewbacca, who had been waiting restlessly behind Rey, growled in response and shuffled forward to envelop Lando in an aggressive embrace.

_“His_ ship?” Finn side-mouthed while they all watched Lando get lifted into the air, helplessly protesting that he was getting too old for that sort of thing. Another burst of wind made the group shiver, the sun continuing to set behind them, burning deep shades of dark and red across the sky. They’d laugh if they weren’t so tired. If their laughter wouldn’t sound so depleted, so few when there used to be so many.

“Falcon was his before he lost it to Han. Some card game.” Poe tucked his hands into his pockets, having changed out of his flight gear into more casual trousers and jacket. “Man’s a gambler.”

“Please, welcome to Cloud City.” Collecting his dignity after the hug, Lando adjusted his collar and cape as he began walking backward, ushering the group inside. Rey, Finn, and Poe led the way behind Leia and D’Acy, who walked with Lando. “What’s mine is yours and it seems like you folks certainly need it.”

The top levels of Cloud City were, in a word, luxurious. Rey gaped as they walked through wide, dazzling white hallways lit with arching silver chandeliers, thousands of crystals hanging from them in long stands to resemble rain. The floor was white marble, veins of gold embedded in each tile so it reflected the light and glowed. Floor to ceiling windows, framed by rich drapes embroidered with swirling blue and gold thread, provided a panoramic view of the skyline. The city rose to meet them beyond the glass panes, thousands of towers rising from the sea of clouds around them, framed by a blackening sky.

Looking inward, each room they passed seemed to surpass the next; an empty ballroom filled with an army of servants setting up a banquet, a room full of Abednedo bureaucrats examining glittering jewels, a dark hallway filled with giggling female Lethan twi’leks, their dark red lekku decorated with shimmering metal and crystals.

On their way to the lifts, they also skirted around a huge gambling hall, throngs of wealthy patrons passing them in a hurry to reach the games and throw away their credits. Rey openly stared as a Palandag - with what looked like a pure orichalc exolung - exchanged chips for a thick stack of credits at a window manned by a droid. She’d never seen such a collection of money all in one place. The scavenger in her salivated. _Portions._ She could get so many portions for all of this. Hell, she could probably just buy Unkar Plutt’s entire trade post, if not the entire planet, just with that exolung.

“This is amazing.”

“It’s just more casinos,” Finn said darkly, gripping the strap of the blaster he’d slung over his back a little tighter. “Rich can keep getting richer, and we don’t even have two credits to rub together.” Rey blinked, about to ask what he meant, but Poe spoke up first.

“Cheer up, pal.” Poe clasped Finn’s shoulder and steered him out of the way of a particularly eager Ortolan who shuffled around their legs and straight to a Pazaak game. “At least you can’t lose money if you don’t have any.”

Finn snorted, but didn’t look any less miserable at their surroundings.

“You’ve redecorated.” Rey heard Leia murmur to Lando, who grinned.

“This is the entertainment district. Had I known the leader of the Resistance would be coming to my humble city and been given, say, more than thirty minutes warning, I would have met her somewhere more appropriate.”

They passed a rowdy group of Rodians and Rey had to strain to keep listening while appearing like she wasn't eavesdropping, “No, this is for the best. No one will suspect the Resistance trying to hide between the slot machines and the sabacc tables.”

Commander D’Acy nodded in agreement, “And we know you’re under enough pressure as it is, trying to maintain neutrality.”

“I would tell you not to worry, but I know you will anyway.” Lando gestured to Lobot, who stepped forward to summon the appropriate lifts. “In fact, I suspect i’m the one who should be getting nervous, your Highness.”

Leia smiled, raising an eyebrow, “As long as you’re not planning any unpleasant dinner parties that end with a carbonite aperitif, I’d say you can relax.”

Lando simultaneously sighed and laughed as they boarded the lifts and descended several floors. The two rebellion generals didn’t speak further, but Rey didn’t miss the few subtle glances they exchanged, or what they meant. The time for pleasantries was going to end soon; they had a Resistance to rebuild.

~~\---------------~~

A week passed. Each day, new Resistance members arrived. Maz Kanata in a smoking Firespray-class interceptor that looked like it had been through an asteroid field. The pirate queen loftily pretended she had no idea what happened as one of the wings burst into flames behind her. Eraan Verlaine came afterward, flanked by Wedge Antilles, Norra Wexley, and Dosmit Ræh.

Rey fought back a panic-attack meeting Captain Ræh, the rebellion pilot whose helmet had sparked hundreds of imagined adventures for her back on Jakku. She turned out to be a stocky woman, with a shock of blonde hair and a nose that had clearly been broken several times. But her eyes were kind, which was all that mattered. Rey would have avoided her altogether had Finn not encouraged her to say hello.

“You’re even more beautiful than I could have ever imagined,” she had gushed without thinking, flushing a bright red as Ræh laughed, ignoring Rey’s outstretched hand to pull her into a hug.

More came while Leia continued sending out the call through Lando’s private lines, openly welcoming them despite all of them not answering their pleas back on Crait. When Rey had mentioned it to Poe, he’d shrugged, “Yeah, that was a hell of a thing, but these people are all we have left. We’re not exactly in a position to be choosy about our allies.”

A myriad of races, veterans of the Battle of Endor and Battle of Jakku, newcomers who had flocked in during the cold war. Politicians, fighters, and everything in-between. More filled in the seats of the conference hall Lando gave them to hold their meetings, and more added their voices to the already growing assembly of voices, all with differing opinions, none with room to find common ground.

Both Rey and Poe were summoned to nearly all the meetings, though the purpose of their presence quickly dwindled with each passing day. Leia, Connix, and D’Acy did most of the talking on behalf of the Resistance. Poe chipped in here and there, but for the most part, the pair spent their time burrowing their noses in the datapads they were given, scanning HoloNet News for any word of the First Order’s movements. Restricted as they were to only two floors of the building (“Security purposes. Remember, this is still a neutral planet, First Order agents could be anywhere.” Leia had reminded them.), there was hardly much else to do anyway.

Rey was grateful for Poe, though. She found she didn’t have a knack for diplomacy like Leia. She was _bored_. At least with Poe, they could exchange knowing glances during the more frustrating parts of the day, and send each other starfighter specs to discuss over lunch. They’d become fast friends over the week, brought together in the trying time of listening to politicians squabble. Poe wasn’t a big fan of the discussions, either.

“It’s like-” He’d ranted through a sandwich, “Herding loth-cats. Impossible. And stupid. We need ships, we need fighters, and we need to _get moving_. Not that I’m opposed to talking, but nobody’s listening.”

“Too many admirals, not enough ensigns,” Rey replied, snatching the other half of Poe’s sandwich with a smile and shoving it into her mouth before he noticed.

But they were safe and well-cared for, which was more than anything Rey had known on Jakku. They all had their own quarters, a space to eat, and a space to train, though the early morning to late evening meetings hadn’t let Rey explore anything yet.

She couldn’t complain about the food, either. Lando’s people could put together a significant spread, and Rey had taken it as a personal challenge to try all of the new dishes she could get her hands on. After all those years surviving on polystarch and veg-meat, it felt as if she was making up for lost time. Starting with jogan fruit cake. And dew cake. And pyollian cake.

In the meantime, Poe had already promised to teach her how to fly an x-wing. “As soon as we get some new birds, we’ll go black,” he’d said wistfully, staring at the schematics of the latest T-85 projecting from the holo-emitter between them. Rey was itchy to get into a cock-pit herself. Living in a desert for most of her life left her feeling caged in the grand hallways of Cloud City. She just wanted to fix something, do something with her hands. Even getting in some Force training would have probably done her some good, had she dared open herself up to it again.

On the eighth day, she finally slipped away to her room at lunch to get some time to herself. Rey shut the door behind her with a grateful sigh, considering the keypad for a split second before activating the lock with a satisfying push of a button. She allowed herself a moment to lean forward, resting her forehead gently against the cool metal surface. Then, carefully, she _breathed_ , willing the migraine forming behind her eyes to diminish. Her expanding lungs grated in the quiet of the room, the breath scraping in her chest. She might as well have been screaming. She wanted to, for all the good it would do her.

For even a minute of privacy, the deafening silence was worth it. The last few days – weeks? Months? – of her life had been filled with noise. Before the endless negotiations she’d sat through. Even before their arrival on Bespin.

There had been the Millennium Falcon, making the depleted Resistance force feel artificially huge when every open space on the freighter had been claimed by a body. The searing heat and clash of the battle on the Supremacy, the subsequent dog fight with TIE fighters on Crait. Peaceful Ahch-To had even been noisy in its own way, the nights filled with the violence of ocean meeting stone, wave after wave, and the days always reflecting the bounty of life the island hid; bird screeches, Lanai chitters, and thala-siren calls dotting the ever-present hum of the wind and the sea.

Here, in the brightly-lit quarters of Cloud City, there was only a whisper of the repulsorlift engines and tractor beam generators far below. Like a balm on her sore mind, the quiet eased the voices from the conference room that had sent her head spinning. Letting her retreat into something more manageable.

Today, they had finally agreed on the number of x-wings, y-wings, and additional transports they would need to commission or borrow, but it had taken three days. _Three_.

She needed a shower.

Slipping away from the door, Rey unceremoniously started stripping off her gown as she made her way to the fresher, tossing the beautifully embroidered robe onto floor, then kicking off the heeled boots. The entire ensemble had been a gift from Lando, who’d insisted that wearing the most current Cloud City fashion would make her stand out less than her practical Jakku pants and tunic. She couldn’t _move_ in the strange, heavy fabric, but even she could see that it was in her best interest to play along. That didn’t mean she had to be happy about it.

In fact, aside from reuniting with Finn, the fresher had been the only real highlight of her time thus far in Cloud City. Not only because it was her first proper _private_ refresher unit, but because it used real water. Rey had nearly cried when she had been given the tour of the room.

Rather impatiently now, Rey tugged off the rest of the traditional Bespin attire, wriggling out of her underclothes, and jumped into the stall, ignoring the trail of finery she left behind her.

It ran cold first, which she didn’t mind. She turned her head into the spray and let the chill sink into her scalp, her skin, her stiff muscles, while she carefully undid the two braided loops of hair hanging over each shoulder. On Jakku, any water was considered precious and valuable – real showers were unheard of, even for the wealthy. The very idea that there was enough dispensable water for all seven million Cloud City residents made Rey pause each time she twisted the temperature controls and didn’t immediately start to bottle the precious liquid out of desert instinct.

When the shower turned hot, Rey groaned in relief, leaning against the wall of the unit and just allowing the heat to pour over her. She focused on the sound of the drops battering on her skull, hitting the tile, draining away, and imagined it taking some of her with it each time, chipping away until maybe in a few weeks, she would be someone else.

Someone without the responsibility of the entire Jedi order on her shoulders.

They hadn’t broached the topic at the meetings yet, thankfully, but Rey could feel General Organa’s eyes on her sometimes. The only time Rey had gone to see her after their arrival, Leia had skirted around it, trying not to push despite the urgency in her tone, but Rey knew it was coming. Between the talks about Resistance recruitment and bolstering their ranks, it was obvious that a search for force-sensitives would be included. And the ones they found would be brought to her to be trained.

A shame that they would be wasting their time. Rey had nothing to give. She couldn’t even read the texts she took from Ahch-To, though she’d certainly tried. They were written in some old High Galactic with barely a resemblance to basic aurebesh; completely illegible. In annoyance, Rey had stacked them in a haphazard heap on her desk in her quarters, where they now sat gathering dust, along with the broken lightsaber that was wrapped in her tunic on her bedside table. All of it serving as a reminder that she was no Jedi. And was probably never going to be, at this rate.

Cursing under her breath, Rey turned the heat up several degrees and turned around so the stream ran directly over her back to soothe out the knots there. This wasn’t relaxing. She was thinking too much and she had to relax or she was going to kick over a chair at the next discussion she was due to be at in little under an hour.

The heat stung and Rey winced through it, bowing her head.

The last time she had felt mentally uncluttered and at peace had been on Ahch-To. She hadn’t attempted any sort of meaningful training since. There just hadn’t been time or motivation. And too much distraction. The only thing she had mastered, with the help of Leia’s minimal skills she’d picked up from her brother, was blocking everything out. Building up mental bricks until they were hard steel and nothing could penetrate them. 

It was the opposite of what Luke had told her to do. But it had been necessary. It had kept her sane.

But the water was soothing and the steam was fogging her vision. She could focus here.

_Move forward_. _Try again,_ a voice whispered through the steam. _Don’t be afraid_.

“I’m not afraid,” Rey said irrationally to no one, but felt better anyway at her defiance.

Bracing her hands against the stall, Rey tried a half-hearted meditation, clearing her thoughts and hesitantly reaching through the ebb and flow of the force around her.

_I am one with the Force_. Inhale. _I am one with the Force._ Exhale.

The familiar sight of the ocean rose in her mind. She reached out with her feelings. She connected to the Force, finding peace, sensing life. Or, at least, that’s how it had usually gone, back on the island.

The rush of connection didn’t come. For her trouble, she instead felt drained and tense and connected to nothing but her growing migraine, which was about as meditatively conducive as punching a wall.

_“Stoopa!”_ Rey of Jakku, actual peerless Jedi, couldn’t even do basic Force exercises anymore.

She switched the water off with an angry, embarrassed tug and stomped out of the fresher, enveloped in vapor. Cold recycled air hit her skin, raising bumps. Muttering all the curses she knew in Huttese, she grabbed a towel, wrapping it around herself whilst contemplating hunting down Finn in the medical bay. Maybe goading him into a senseless argument could help her release some of the pressure in her chest. He had been exempt from most of the meetings this past week, standing guard over Rose Tico while she recovered. It would be an excellent opportunity to unload on how envious she was of him, her having to suffer through diplomacy while he made dreamy eyes at his injured mechanic.

Or, more realistically, Rey could go find Chewie and help him with a few quick repairs on the Falcon; then she could at least be productive _._ And showing up covered in engine oil to face down a gaggle of politicians would give her some satisfaction. And let her forget her disappointment in herself.

Bare feet slapping on the floor, Rey walked back into her room with a shiver, surveying the mess. She was unrepentant that she left her quarters untidy, but she felt a twinge of guilt anyway. The Bespin gown ensemble was the finest set of clothes she’d ever owned, even if terribly impractical. Clutching her towel with one hand, she began raking up the discarded clothes on the ground one-by-one, making a haphazard bundle in her arms.

As she was shuffling along tidying, the taste of smoke and copper inexplicably filled her mouth, almost like an overpowering afterthought; slow, then everything at once. Her mind, raw from the meditation attempt, unfolded once more, acting against her volition and effortlessly slotting into place with another. The pieces aligned, like they had before. On Acht-To. On Crait.

Frozen in place, half-bent over with a shoe in one hand, she was slow to react, not quite comprehending, not quite _believing_ what was happening. Seconds later, the bond thrummed softly. It _shifted_ , slipping a presence into her room.

_Into her bed_.

Rey swallowed, heart in her throat. _Oh._

Kylo Ren looked up blearily from across the space, bare-chested, blankets pooling around his waist. His hair was sleep-mussed, sticking out at every angle and falling into his eyes. Eyes that were slowly widening in comprehension and surprise. And she could _feel_ him, his shock and disorientation swirling seamlessly into her own.

He stared.

_Oh no._

“Rey-?” he said softly, uncertain.

The pile of clothes fell from nerveless fingers back to the floor, unnoticed.

“Hello, Ben.”


	2. blowing smoke in my eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Stop staring,_ she grumbled through the bond, breaking the seal and speaking to him for the first time in days.
> 
> Kylo’s lips twitched as he mentally shrugged in reply. _I can’t._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thank you to anyone who gave this fic the time of day, and for the comments and kudos. I think it goes without saying that so much support is what motivates writers more than anything else, so thanks! If you're on tumblr, find me at kyrolen. And please let me know if some reference links at the bottom would be helpful, I know there's a lot of Star Wars babble all up in here.

He had been dreaming of her when the bond roused him. The details were already spilling out like water from his hands, but he remembered sand. The ache of his back as he walked with her beneath a merciless sun, following her in silence, unquestioning, trusting. He remembered the smell of rust in the picked-apart bowels of a star destroyer. The feeling of yearning, being pulled towards something just out of reach, impossible but rightfully his.

“You don’t know where you’re going.” Rey had said, her voice echoing in the depths of the starship’s carcass. Red flowers bloomed at her feet, poppies, winding up from the ground beneath her with each step. She took his hand, looking away, towards the stars.

“But I do.”

Half-believing that he still hadn’t woken up, Kylo blinked at the girl standing in the middle of his quarters, disheveled and soft. Her mind flowed into his with no restraints. His dark with her light aura, blending together until he felt her in his soul. The scavenger had no reason to know how to put up mental barriers and block him out properly, but Kylo had no excuse. He just wanted it to happen, sinking into the depths of her thoughts like a man ready to drown, letting her do the same.

It was warm here, with her mind brushing against his. Humming like static. Barely awake, Kylo could almost pretend that this was the beginning, not the middle of their tragedy where failure, abandonment, and betrayal were the key players and the pair of them just pawns.

“Hello, Ben.” Rey said breathlessly, unmoving except for the water dripping from her hair to the floor. She didn’t look surprised, or even angry. She looked cautious. On edge.

He glanced from her wet hair to the single towel tightly wound around her body. This was more startling than her appearance when he had been shirtless. At least he hadn’t been nearly naked. His mouth grew dry as the memories of her time in the shower leaked through the connection, flashing through her exhaustion. He glimpsed her hunched shoulders beneath the spray, felt her weak moan as the pressure hit her muscles just right because she was so sore, she was so damn tired.

At the final image - rivulets of water branching down the slopes of her chest – he jerked his head to the side, as if he could look away and unsee what was unravelling in his head. His cheeks grew hot. It was too much, too fast, her power in the force overflowing and free.

There was such a vast emptiness in him, he wasn’t built to process just how much she could fill in the spaces. Or how well.

The phantom sensation of droplets on his arms made him flinch, even as the heat of the fresher lingered, sinking into his bones. She seemed to realize this at the same time, a pink glow erupting on her cheeks and chest as she drew the cloth more securely around herself with sheepish urgency.

“This could have happened at a _better_ time,” she muttered, avoiding his eyes as she padded to the left of the room. There was nothing but a set of drawers built into the wall on that side, but as Rey reached it and sat, a chair materialized beneath her. Something from her end, now here. Not for the first time, Kylo wondered where she was.

“Is this-?” Kylo started to ask, but Rey shook her head.

“No. I-I don’t know. I thought Snoke’s death would make these-” she gestured awkwardly between them, “-connections stop.”

She had been closed off to him for so long, she hadn’t even realized that the bond remained.

“He may have had a hand in abetting it, but I think this connection was always our doing.”

Rey frowned, mulling this over. “So your master lied to me. And to you.”

 _And he died for it_ , Kylo seethed, brushing a hand through his bed-head in an attempt to tame it.

“It’s getting stronger,” he said. He tried to focus, but his eyes kept drifting to Rey’s toes, which curled into the floor. “This bond. Or maybe-”

A pause. Kylo stilled. Or maybe the First Order was closer to catching up the Resistance then either of them realized, this meeting only a result of their proximity to each other.

He gave a quick experimental prod into her mind. The attempt to find some hint to her location earned him a scowl and a firm, unhappy push back out. Along with a mental wall for good measure, blocking him.

Rey raised a challenging eyebrow. Ah. So she _had_ learned a few things since they last met.

Kylo, trying not to look impressed, flashed a smirk. “Skywalker didn’t teach you that.”

“No. Your mother did,” Rey shot back, lifting her chin. “The woman you tried to murder not too long ago. Twice now, from what I’ve heard.”

 _Monster_.

Kylo swallowed hard. Leia Organa was still alive. Of course she was, he hadn’t felt her death. It was good to know that the General still lived, but it had been weakness then, not firing the shot, and it was still weakness now. This tie to the past and to Ben Solo still had to be severed. He just had to find the proper tool. Swinging his feet to the floor, Kylo tossed off the stifling blankets and angled his body towards Rey.

“Do you want an apology?”

Like a whip, her annoyance and anger flared between them, emotions so unbridled and sharp that they knocked the breath out of him. Rey took a deep breath, no doubt to unleash some sort of tirade - let loose on the words she’d probably been mulling over for days. However, the accusations and rage didn’t come – she simply deflated, folding inward.

“Would you mean it?”

Kylo dragged his eyes back to hers, blanching at the open sadness he saw there.

Admittedly, he hadn’t gotten to where he was - hadn’t weathered the death on his hands – by allowing remorse to affect him. But he wanted to give her what she wanted. He wanted to pile it at her feet; his apologies and guilt and the agony of his actions that had clearly been mistakes. But they would be lies and there had been enough of that between them already. So he gave her the only thing he had left, small and pathetic but his.

“No.”

Rey nodded, unsurprised by the answer but clearly disappointed anyway. It showed in her slumped shoulders, in her fingers anxiously picking at a loose thread on the towel. Kylo was sorry for that - sorry for starting down a path she couldn't bear to follow.

His hands clenched and unclenched, the motion failing to distract him from how hard his heart was starting to beat in his chest.

“Would you forgive me?”

Looking slightly taken aback, a flush curled over her freckles again. “No,” she admitted, still wringing her hands. “Not yet.”

At least she wasn’t lying, either. Even if it left them at an awkward impasse. Words clustered on the edge of his tongue; honest ones. He could tell her that he meant the rest of it; that he wanted her with him; that she meant more to him than even he could possibly fathom. That their destinies were intertwined like hands grasping in the dark and regardless of these separate roads they’d chosen to take, they were going to come together eventually, for better or for worse. And why not make it for the better? Why not choose the better road where they work as one, where neither of them feel alone?

 _You’ve gone from a wild desert scavenger_ , he marveled as he stared at the girl’s scarred knees peeking out from her towel. _To something I don’t recognize. Something important._

He couldn’t tell her that, either. So many words, but no courage to speak a single one.

“There’s still time, you know.” Rey jerked him out of his thoughts, carefully tugging on the mental thread to pull him closer. He felt it in his chest, heard the ocean lap at the tip of his tongue. For a startling second, Kylo wondered if she was doing this unknowingly, but there was a set to her jaw that proved otherwise. _Getting stronger by the day_. _More powerful than she knows._

More of her room manifested around him. She was inviting him in for the first time. The bed beneath him blended from standard issue black to shades of greys and whites. The indent on the pillow no longer his own, but hers. Kylo Ren’s heart shuddered.

“Time for what, Rey?” She looked so earnest for a man who no longer existed. The darkness in his shadows reared its ugly head, uncurling behind him with a purr, “For Ben Solo to come back and win the war for you?”

He hadn’t mean for the scathing tone, but Rey heard it anyway. Looming like a wave, her anger stubbornly rose to meet his, “Time to _fix this_ and come back before you’re lost.”

Too late for that. Six years too late.

“Time to pick the side where you belong. The right-”

“The _right_ side?” Ignited, Kylo stood. The Dark spread within him like an opening maw, and a fraction of him despaired, wondering how this had gone so terrible so fast.

They were back to spitting at each other when they could have had something more, could be something other than just opposites who unbalanced each other. But the wrong things to say were already leaving his mouth and Rey’s lips were curling in disgust and he couldn’t stop, he couldn’t back down from the belief that he had given up everything for and that Ben Solo died for.

“There’s no such thing as right and wrong, or two sides. Dealing in absolutes is what led both the Jedi and the Sith to their downfall to begin with.”

“Then what?” Rey also stood, eyes flashing as she walked forward to meet his challenge, straight-backed and righteous, even in her towel. “What would you suggest, _Supreme Leader_?”

“Order!” He took the bait, childish as it was. “Stability! Tear everything down and start anew, under one rule of law, so that progress can begin again.”

“You can’t just destroy everything and build on the ashes. I’ve lived my whole life on a planet of ashes and dust and _nothing_ grows there. There's no life, i-it’s just _nothing_.”

She was so close, glaring up at him and undaunted by his height as she jabbed a finger to his chest. It connected, skin-to-skin, and her touch from across the universe was electric, burning and cold at the same time. Kylo hissed in a breath, fighting the simultaneous urges to take her hand and press it to his lips or push it away.

Growing bolder, his darkness had begun lapping at Rey’s bare feet, toxic, thick, and threatening to pull her in like it had him. He could see it in the harsh lines on her face and hear it in the unrestrained rage of her words. Her energy had stains, and he wondered if he was responsible. She wouldn’t even realize it, she could not see how close she was to tipping over to the dark side.

With a snarl, Kylo suddenly advanced on the woman, pushing her out of the circle of influence, out of his own muddled tar of hatred and despair. She didn’t go willingly, but he stalked after her until she stumbled back against a wall. The shadows howled in protest and Kylo ignored them, crowding Rey’s space to shield her from their poison.

_Don’t you dare touch what is mine._

She sputtered and pushed on his chest, indignantly demanding he release her, but he only moved in more, until he could feel her angry, erratic breath on his throat and smell the sweetness of the soap on her skin. They both knew she could easily break free of this cage. Neither of them knew why she didn’t.

The bond waited, luminous and persistent.

“I thought you wanted peace. Balance.” Kylo murmured into the warm space between them, “I thought you wanted to end this conflict.”

Her eyes were impossibly large this close, bright hazel and dilated. He saw star clusters there. He saw her youth. And his own face, wretched and twisted, reflected in the black.

 _She could be yours,_ the darkness promised.

 _She doesn’t want to be_ , Kylo Ren replied.

Rey was shaking with outrage, her open face marking every single emotion passing through as she glared at him, never possibly knowing the effect she had on him, leaving him breathless. She licked her lips. Kylo Ren watched the motion of her pink tongue passing over her mouth, transfixed.

“What you’re talking about isn’t peace, Ben. It’s emptiness. It’s death.”

“Is that not the expected outcome of any conflict?” He countered.

Rey ignored him, shaking her head, “And it’s not about what I want or what _you_ want. This isn’t about us anymore. It was never about me in the first place. Isn’t that what you said?”

“I was wrong.”

He leaned further down - not daring to touch her, he would never find the strength like she could- but his lips came close, just barely brushing the top of her hair. The faint shiver she gave in response nearly made him choke. Trying to steady himself, Kylo put a hand out to rest on the wall by her head, fingers curling inward at the sensation of her palms pressing into his torso, at the desperate ache in his heart.

“And you’re wrong,” he continued quietly. “It’s never been more about you and me.”

The last thing he saw before Rey _shoved_ him out was her look of fear. It hovered in his vision as he fell heavily to the floor of his own quarters with a gasp, sucking in air like a man breaking the surface of the sea. He was alone again. Nothing from her side remained, not even a wisp of her scent. The connection was closed.

 _What are you scared of? Me?_ Kylo threw into the bond, bristling at the sting of his injury and his swift dismissal. _Or what I'm making you see in yourself?_

There was no answer. Rey had put up her barriers, blocking him out.

~~\------------~~

Two days passed and the situation did not exactly improve.

Kylo Ren brooded at the head of a long table littered with holopads, flimsies, and mugs of caf. His generals and other executive officers were discussing strategy around him as he stared sullenly down to the other end of the conference desk. There had been an empty seat - Mitaka had been called away - but Rey sat there now, legs tucked underneath her, nose buried in her own holo-pad. She stood out amidst the sea of black uniforms in a pastel dress Kylo’d never seen before, ignorant of the First Order secrets flying over her head.

The reason for their continued and seemingly uncontrollable meetings through the Force was still a mystery to him. There was no explanation for today, for example. He had simply been waiting for Hux to begin the meeting when Rey had blinked into existence, looking tense and unhappy.

A question rose on his tongue at her arrival, only to be bitten back; he knew better now. After their first confrontation, Kylo had been hoping for a chance to explore the connection more and witness as it grew stronger. To prod and poke and learn so that they could move forward. Rey apparently saw it as an opportunity to be petty, obstinately refusing to acknowledge his presence whenever their minds drew close and overlapped.

He continued dreaming of her in fields of flowers and oceans of sand while she continued appearing during his waking hours, radiant as starlight. It was a nightmare. And the cold shoulder bothered him more than he cared to admit, dredging up recollections of his childhood that he had been sure were lost to him. Rey just had that sort of effect; she coaxed things out of him that he didn’t know were still there.

Like jealousy.

Kylo’s scowl deepened as he watched a small smile play on Rey’s lips, her head tilting to the left in reaction to someone he couldn’t see. It was probably just dogged defiance on her part, this game she was playing. But it left him in a shallow grave of petulance, seeing her so close but unable to touch. And unwilling to retaliate. After all, he couldn’t blame her. For one reason or another, he probably deserved this, even if it left him restless and sour.

“We’ve narrowed down the potential planets,” General Hux was saying, bringing up three large, rotating holo-projections. “-to Coruscant, Brentaal IV, and Chandrila.”

His attention was grabbed by the latter planet. Tearing his eyes away from Rey, he glanced through the datapad at his elbow. Hux had put together – or rather, taken credit for – a detailed list of pros and cons for each selection. Kylo skimmed it with a frown. It was extensive.

While they waited for a significant portion of Grand Admiral Sloane’s armada to rally to their location from the Unknown Regions, the red-headed zealot had been thriving in these meetings. Snoke had previously put off a full-frontal assault and show of force since the fall of Starkiller Base, making Hux chomp at the bit, but the time had finally come to re-assert their power.

With Hosnian Prime destroyed, the First Order was going to establish a new capitol.

Coruscant and Brentaal were excellent selections for a capitol; a city planet and a trade planet, both with enough influence to act as a seat of power for the Order. Kylo scrolled through the pages detailing both with little interest. Chandrila, on the other hand, was another matter. It had no place being on this list to begin with. His eyes traced the image of the planet, memories rising like bile in the back of his throat.

High Colonel Datoo, recently promoted, tapped the table to call attention to himself. “Brentaal is clearly the obvious choice. With the Perlemian Trade Route and Hydian Way in our grasp, we could hold the Bormea sector indefinitely.”

“Brentaal is hardly the place for a capitol,” Commander Malarus shook her head from across the table, leaning back in her seat as she fixed an unimpressed stare at Datoo. “It’s not nearly as advanced as Coruscant. The technological resources _alone,_ not to mention that it already has an established industrial area and a planetary defense system. After our little scrap with Organa’s little freedom fighters, we need someplace we can fortify even while we’re at half-strength. ”

A few officers murmured in agreement with the blonde officer. Hux tutted, “Yet we have history on Chandrila. And it’s increased its manufacturing firms in recent years-.”

Kylo bluntly interrupted, trying not to sneer as Hux choked on his drink, “Chandrila is the weakest option. It has no strategic value, barring its proximity to Kuat and its agricultural exports, and as history has shown, it’s indefensible.”

Sensing Hux’s growing irritation, he continued. “By all means, Chandrila and Kuat should be prioritized – The First Order could always use more ships and food supplies. But they’re inadequate as bases. Ignoring the practical reasons, conquering a planet should hold influential weight. Change minds through a show of force first; fear is an excellent motivator.”

Some of the officers grinned. Kylo looked at Hux, knowing he had made his point clear. “And a malleable weapon.”

“What planet would you say is more suitable, then, Supreme Leader?” Hux gritted out, each word dripping with contempt. The younger officers exchanged nervous glances at the open disdain the General was making no effort to hide, wondering if another infamous Kylo Ren tantrum was about to crash down on them.

At the other end of the table, Rey smiled again, looking up at the perfect moment to meet Kylo’s gaze, bright and beautiful. He watched the blush spread over her cheeks, even as her nose scrunched in annoyance and she looked away.

 _Stop staring_ , she grumbled through the bond, breaking the seal and speaking to him for the first time in days.

Kylo’s lips twitched as he mentally shrugged in reply. _I can’t._

Pique that had been festering in his stomach dissipated with a flutter, easing some of the anxiety and self-loathing that had been hanging over his head.  Kylo exhaled, then turned back to Hux.

“Begin making preparations for Coruscant. We’ll keep Brentaal as an alternate - I’m sure the Grand Admiral will want to share her opinion as well before we finalize our decision.”

“Good.” Hux deadpanned, shutting off the projections and beginning to gather his things. “With your permission, Supreme Leader, we will re-adjourn at 0600 tomorrow when the rest of the fleet arrives.”

“Dismissed.” Kylo remained seated while his High Command quickly departed, each one saluting at the door. Phasma’s replacement, Lieutenant Zero, went so far as to wait by the exit and allow the rest of the officers to leave before him, giving Kylo one last nod before he followed the seething Hux out.

Then only he and Rey remained.

Kylo pushed his chair back and slowly walked over to her, indulging in the view. The sleeveless dress she was wearing, a pale blue with silver thread seams and a high collar, completely exposed her arms, revealing the bruises coloring her skin with shades of violence. He could see one of the cuts she had gotten from the fight with the Praetorian Guards had healed, though, leaving a jagged scar on her shoulder.

Kissed by battle, toughened by the sun. She wore the marks well. Like reminders. Like promises.

Rey’s eyes followed him as he approached, hands tightening around the tablet in her hands until the knuckles were white. Trying to elicit a reaction, Kylo leaned over her. Purposely too close, their cheeks nearly touching. If he closed his eyes, he could almost feel her warmth. If he held his breath, her heartbeat became an echo, beating in time with his.

A short article on lightsabers was on the screen of the datapad. Giving it a quick read, Kylo could tell it wasn’t written by anyone with proper training.

“A lightsaber is a laser sword,” he read quietly, amused. “A weapon favored by Jedi and Sith. How apt.”

Rey’s hands flew to close the article as she squirmed, angling her head away from his. Judging from the way her mouth was pressed tightly together, it was safe to assume she was still in the presence of other people.

“If you’re trying to continue your training, this isn’t how you do it.”

The offer to teach her was, in theory, still on the table. The girl hesitated for a moment, worrying at her bottom lip with her teeth, before pulling up a keyboard and typing a few words into a writing application:

_E chu ta_

Kylo looked from the typed aurebesh to the satisfied grin on her face, then pulled out of her personal space, though not before impulsively flicking at her earlobe. Where the infantile urge came from, it was hard to say. Maybe Rey’s silent treatment had struck a nerve. Or perhaps it was something young Ben Solo had seen Han do to his mother, a teasing gesture, a sign of fondness.

Rey gasped, then tried to smother the sound in an exasperated cough as she clapped a hand to the side of her head.

“You know where to find me when you change your mind.”

With a small wave of his hand, Kylo switched off the lights and walked out, knowing without looking that Rey had watched him leave.

~~\------------~~

The worst part of it all was that Kylo Ren was right.

He was wrong about a lot of things, thankfully, but on this particular subject, he had a point. Rey didn’t want to admit it, but the fact remained.

She stared down at the broken lightsaber in her lap.

This was absolutely not the way to do it.

Turning the weapon this way and that, poking at it with tools, shaking it, even meditating with it had proven fruitless. Standard methods were no longer applicable where ancient Jedi swords were concerned, it seemed. Though that hadn’t stopped Rey from trying.

This had all started on a whim born of frustration. The bond had continued acting freely, with both Rey and Ben seemingly not powerful enough to stop the connections and intrusions. No matter how much Rey built up her mental wall, pouring layer after layer into it, the bond broke through each time. She didn’t know what she needed to overcome this - strength, wisdom, or training - but whatever it was, she wasn’t there yet.

And if Rey wanted to get better, if she wanted to be useful, to put herself between the First Order and her friends, then she would have to do it herself. Despite the fact that, on the surface, everything about the Force was an enormous, overwhelming entity. Which was why she was starting small. Small problem: she needed a weapon. Small solution: fix it. And lightsabers definitely didn’t repair themselves.

At Leia’s suggestion (and permission to be excused from meetings for a while), Rey had started running some of the pages of the Jedi texts through her datapad’s translation program. Although most of the results had come up dubious, some fully legible phrases had shone through the gibberish, jewels amidst the garbage. It spurred Rey on, the discovery, and she invested the time in scanning all the books until she had a complete digital set and a handful of phrases she didn’t quite know how to interpret.

She skimmed the short list she had for the tenth time, running a finger over one. “A great student is what the teacher hopes to be,” she re-read, brow furrowed. “Very helpful, Jedi masters.”

Her floor was a disaster, scribble-covered flimsiplasts covering the floor around where she was sitting. She had spent the better part of the day skimming HoloNet articles regarding lightsabers, coming up with a few theoretical cross-section schematics. She had even found a few rough drawings of kyber crystals in some of the ancient texts, though pictures were few and far between amidst the dust and mostly indecipherable wisdoms.

There had never been too many opportunities for research projects in the desert, and Rey was happily allowing it to get out of hand, enjoying the scavenger hunt she had been presented with. Working out problems, finding their solutions - she was good at this.

But even with a renewed purpose and an excess of energy, Rey still hit a wall the day after Kylo Ren had nearly made her cause a scene in the middle of the canteen. She may have been ignoring him like a child, but at least she hadn’t resorted to pigtail pulling.

Rey sighed, leaning back amidst her notes to stare out the window and rest her eyes. The datapad was offering her no new translations. Even analyzing pages word-by-word yielded nothing of note and she was still no closer to finding out how to repair the saber. The only thing she’d managed to do was take it apart, prying open the metal casing and gutting both halves until she had a pile of delicate parts, all spread out so she could see what component did what. Except for the miraculously intact crystal, which Rey was making float slowly up and down in her palm.

There was a distinct wobble in the motion of the rock, but it felt good to practice what little Force skills she did have.

She spent a few minutes watching the clouds float past her wide wall of transparisteel, before noticing, almost on accident, the time on the chrono nearby.

“Kriff!”

She frantically scrambled out of her nest of notes, dumping everything out of her lap in the process. The research had made her lose track of time and now she was late.

Giving the lightsaber parts one last lingering glance, Rey slipped the crystal into her pocket and headed out the door. She had a lunch date.


End file.
